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It’s New Year’s Day, so my social media feeds are full of links to yearly horoscope columns. I have no problem with sun-sign horoscopes; I write them myself. However, I do have a problem with astrologers who dwell on something insignificant when they write a horoscope.

Take my 2018 prediction from a major fashion-magazine website (I’m not going to name it because I probably already sound like a big enough jerk). The entire passage is about my love life.

I’m a Capricorn, and the only thing that is really happening in those places of my chart responsible for romance is the ingress of Uranus into my fifth house in May. In not-so-many-words, the article alludes to that transit. I can make that inference because of the time frame noted by the authors (May through November, when Uranus makes its initial move into Taurus).

Now why does that make it a shitty horoscope? Because I’m a Capricorn. Uranus isn’t a personalized planet for me and my fellow goats, and even if it was, it’s going to be in my fifth house for roughly seven years. What’s it going to do in seven years? Surprise me with romance every freaking day?

I’ve been spending a lot of time paying attention to what other astrologers are doing. The vast majority are terrific at their jobs. I just listened to Rick Levine’s monthly forecast, and a couple of days ago I listened to Chris Brennan’s podcast. Even when we use different techniques, or when we have a difference of opinion about the importance of specific planetary events, we often come to similar conclusions because we know what we are talking about.

A yearly horoscope isn’t the best way to impart knowledge to someone who has more than a passing interest in astrology, but it is a great way to introduce yourself to an audience who might want more from you in the future. Unfortunately, there are plenty of shitty astrologers who give horoscopes a bad name because they don’t have a clue what they are talking about.